


Sanctuary

by LunnarEclipse



Category: Spooks | MI-5
Genre: F/M, SO, before he's rescued by mi5, but i've revised it, during lucas's imprisonment, in Russia, it should be better, this is a v old work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 16:45:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6814012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunnarEclipse/pseuds/LunnarEclipse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jasmine Taylor, a member of the C.I.A., was sent to Moscow on a top priority mission, only to land into one of their notorious prisons. After three long years of incessant torture, she finally receives a ray of hope in a man named Lucas North, an officer of the British security team MI5. Could he be her ticket out of this nefarious nightmare?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Necropolis

**Author's Note:**

> As a policy of mine, I've added content/trigger warnings in these author notes (which will always be found at the beginning of each chapter) to give you a heads up as to what's ahead and how you can avoid reading the passages that might make you uncomfortable; as this story will be delving very much into touchy subjects and violent, graphic scenes will be frequent. I hope none of this has deterred you from continuing, so without further ado, here's the first chapter.

_ "Wake me, revolve in my wounds,   _ _ lay down your enemy; in the fire of a last temptation.  _

_ Hate me, for wasting my time on commonalities.  _

_ In this city of the dead." -Kamelot _

* * *

 

"Get up, move...  _ now _ !" The woman snarled in Russian, her black hair falling into her face.

The frail and frightened prisoner in front of her obeyed immediately, getting up and making her shaking way towards a door.

The Woman scoffed at her captives slow haste, and jabbed her in the back with a whip. "Come on, move it. We don't have all day here." she snarled, and cracked her whip against the concrete walls.

The prisoner jumped and made a soft whimpering noise, before cowering into the next room.

The Woman smirked and walked over, as she circled her feeble prey. She spat at its feet, and then folded her arms to her chest. "Close the door." she ordered, and a buff man walked out from nowhere and shut the door behind them; its metal surface clanking once it was shut securely.

The Woman stopped walking and then looked at the pitiful specimen in front of her, thinking on how to get the truth out of her this time.

"So, you know the drill sweetheart: I ask you questions and you answer them. If you don't give me what I want—well, you've been in here long enough to know what will happen."

She then gave a cruel smile, and whacked the whip against the cold floor, causing her victim to yelp and back up against the wall.

"Do I frighten you darling? Oh well, you shouldn't be scared of me. In fact, we could have been great friends…. If only you didn't try to escape those previous  _ three _ times."

The Woman walked over swiftly and grabbed her target by the hair. "Speak, bitch!" she snarled, causing the girl to to scream in agony and fear.

"Speak and all of this will be forgotten." The Woman stated calmly, as though she had stated this lie thousands of times.

_ That's what she said last time, and the time before that… How many times must I take this until they've learned that I cannot be satisfied by these reassurances anymore? _

The prisoner's mind was ablaze, and her veins pulsed with anger and resentment and dread, but nothing she could say or do would make a difference in the Russian's opinion of her.

"Like I've said all those other times miss, I know nothing." 

There was a loud  _ crack _ and the Woman had whipped her disobedient, lying hostage on her shoulder.

Said victim's entire body seemed to tremble from the impact of rough leather on calloused skin, and her eyes filled with tears as the pain shocked through her entire core. However, she did not dark make a sound of protest.

"Do not lie to me." The Woman hissed, and inched closer towards the cowering figure.

"I am not lying." She stated calmly, and the whip cracked again.

"How many times must we go through this,  _ Jasmine _ ?"

The woman, Jasmine, shuddered at having her name muttered by such a disgusting person. "As many times as it takes to finally let it sink into your heads that I know nothing." Jasmine hissed back.

The Woman raised a fine raised an eyebrow at her outburst. "You think showing off that  _ kind  _ of behavior is going to let you go off easier here?" she whispered, her voice deadly.

Jasmine flinched at her stupidity, and the memories of being subjected to unending pain and torture began flooding her memory as her warden continued to glare down at her with those hollow black eyes.

"Put one foot wrong out here, and somebody gets it, and that somebody is you." The Woman snarled, and another  _ crack  _ echoed throughout the cell.

"Let's see, I suppose I'm feeling rather lenient, so we'll just give you the usual." she smirked and snapped her fingers; a man appearing with another whip, and a bag.

Jasmine bowed her head and fell silent, resound almost, as she let the Woman whip away at her body and the salt sting her wounds.


	2. Quietus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I have established that as another precaution, any warnings will be contained within the block of three asterisks (***). The trigger/content warnings are for: mentions of rape. If you want to skip this portion, stop after, "However, it was this initial silence that lead down the slippery slope of endless days and nights of debauchery and pain." and resume at "That had finally broken her." There's also some violence, so read at your own discretion.

_"Deprived of my own innocence, denied. The infinity of recurring torment, your comeuppance." -Epica_

* * *

 

Jasmine sat huddled in a corner, shaking from the pain, and rubbing at her wounds, trying to remove the salt as quickly as possible.

"Those bastards…" she mumbled, and spit into her hand, hissing as she touched the infected and swollen lacerations. She felt tears sting her eyes, and let them fall. She didn't care anymore about showing weakness in front of them.

At first, she initially believed that if one were to falter in their resilience is what would lead her captors to believe that she had lost her fighting spirit, and thus, the following torture would be excruciating so as to retrieve the desired information in a much more timely manner. However, it was this silence that lead down the slippery slope of endless days and nights of debauchery and pain.

 ******* Jasmine couldn't even bring herself to fathom how they thought up these _creative_ forms of punishment, but _she_ always had something new in store for her. Eventually, there was only one place left the Woman had yet to sully, so she allowed the men in the encampment to deal with that in whatever way they pleased.

That was the final nail in the coffin. Jasmine no longer had a sense of self entitlement and it felt as though the person that had previously inhabited her body had long since left her. She was empty, a hollow drum which only resounded with an occasional _thump_ from her heavy heart. *******

They had finally broken her. It was a miracle that she lasted this long in the prison, for she hardly ate or slept anymore. She would get lost merely focusing on counting the number of dots speckling the filthy floor, as the concept of time was completely irrelevant in a place like this.

Jasmine glanced up, her dark eyes focusing on the flickering of one of the fluorescent lights in the ceiling. She noticed several bugs zooming in towards the seemingly godlike luminescence, as some found their solace amongst the basking glow, whereas others tumbled downwards to the cold ground below.

She crawled over towards a nearby twitching moth, picking it up with two fingers. She brought it closer to inspect, before she placed it within the palm of her hand.

"You suffer so much," she said, as she watched it slowly die. "And all 'cause you tried to reach that white light of salvation..."

She suddenly heard the soft thudding of boots upon stone, and she slowly pressed herself against the wall, as if trying to meld with the structure itself. She tucked her head into her chest, as her matted hair provided a curtain against the harsh reality that was about to bound in from the outside.

Jasmine heard the door open, and then groaned as her face was pulled upwards by a sudden jerk. The Woman smirked down at her, the tension at the end of Jasmine's roots beginning to prick at her scalp.

"Come now, you mustn't be so shy. What kind of message are you trying to show your new friend?" she said, and slapped Jasmine on the back of the head, forcing the weak brunette to tumble a few inches closer to a nearby guard.

Her vision blurred for several quick seconds before finally re-adjusting to the scene that lay before her.

A man about her age was being hulled in. He had short black hair, was tall, muscular build. He seemed to be trying to fight off the guards, and Jasmine wanted to warn him against defiance, but thought twice about speaking up.

"He's quite the feisty one isn't he?" The Woman mused, earning a round of laughter from the guards. "Slap him a few times with your gun to help him learn who the master of this place is."

The guard nearest to Jasmine nodded, while the other two exited the room and closed the heavy door with a loud _slam_. The guard kicked their newest captive in the stomach, which caused him to lower his head in submission, which gave them the perfect opportunity to strike him several times in the face and on the head.

Jasmine flinched at the horrible sound and clasped her hands over her ears to try and mute it, but the prisoners grunts sewed through her fingers and filled her head with the cries of the anguished.

The Woman smiled in triumph and walked up towards the stranger. She put two fingers under his shin, lifting his head for them to meet eye to eye.

"Why are you here?" she hissed in Russian, earning a confused look from the man.

"What?" he croaked out.

The Woman looked at the guard, which earned the prisoner another whack with the butt of his gun.

"Why are you here?" she repeated again, her voice filled with irritation.

The man looked at her again, blood trickling from the side of his face, his eyes filled with confusion.

The realization suddenly hit Jasmine: he couldn't understand Russian. But then why on Earth did he come here?

Although Jasmine understood he could only speak English, the Russians seemed to think he was only playing stupid.

"Hit him again. He doesn't seem to understand the meaning of obedience." The Woman hissed, and the guard raised his gun again, the man below him preparing for another blow—

"No. Stop." Jasmine whispered, causing all eyes to go on her.

"What did you say?" The Woman snarled, swiftly walking to where Jasmine sat huddled and grabbing her forcefully by the hair.

"I said stop, he can't be speak Russian." Jasmine whispered, her eyes narrowing slightly.

The Woman let go of Jasmine, and nodded. "I see," she muttered, passing her whip from hand to hand. "Would you force him to speak? We don't know any English."

Jasmine had always abided herself by a code of conduct that would usually prevent her from assisting in the future harm of another human being. Despite this, the years that she had been here had hardened her soul, and she rarely felt the need to protect anyone but herself.

She cocked her head to the side in response, as if thinking about the previous command in another perspective would somehow alleviate the tension that had begun to press upon her chest. She never liked sending these people to their doom, no matter how much she tried to distance herself from them.

Finally she made a move towards the injured man, plopping down next to him. "I would appreciate it if you were to pay attention as to what I'm about to say to you," she stated, much more robotic, and emotionless than she initially intended.

"You speak English?" he sputtered, completely ignoring her tone as blood dribbled from his mouth.

Jasmine merely blinked in response to his realization. "If you don't want to die within the hour I suggest that you tell these people the information that they desire." she stated, and cocked her head to the side again.

He gave her a dazed look. "How the hell am I supposed to respond when I don't even understand them?" he hissed, the woman before him hardly even responding to his angry question.

"They asked me to be your translator."

His eyes quickly scanned over her, before he nodded, flinching from the gash on his head.

"So, any progress with him Jasmine?" The Woman asked, clearing growing impatient.

Jasmine nodded, and refocused her attention on the two guards.

"Well, let's try this again, shall we? Why are you here?"

Jasmine translated, and the man spoke:

"I don't find that to be any of your business. Why have you taken me?" his voice was now filled with anger, and he looked poised to take action, but Jasmine gave him a look that made him think otherwise.

Jasmine looked back at the Woman, translated, and she replied, "I give you a chance to respond civilly, and you snap at me. Fine, Lucas North," she smirked, and seemed to be enjoying this whole situation. "Why have we captured you? Because we have reason to believe that you were passing valuable information to MI-5, _that_ is why."

Lucas visibly paled when she hissed out the name 'MI-5'.

Jasmine eyes widened and she whirled to face Lucas again. MI-5? Was he really from MI-5? Her fingers twitched anxiously, until they finally closed into a fist. There's no way that _they_ would ever stop searching, so was it possible that her branch had reached out to their English allies for the search?

A tiny spark began to flicker inside of her, as the idea of help being sent to find and rescue her filled her mind. She had been missing for two years already...but...

Hope, that spark was hope, and it was something that Jasmine had not felt in ages. This sudden lapse in judgement startled her, as a mere few minutes past, she had been willing to offer this man up to slaughter to keep her alive a little bit longer. Now she had to find out what he knew, he had to remain with her.

Lucas's face furrowed in confusion at Jasmine's sudden intense gaze, and it made him slightly uncomfortable. Although, he needed to know what that woman just said, so he placed a hand on her knee to snap her back to reality.

Jasmine jumped from fright at the sudden contact, and whacked the invading ligament away. Her eyes quickly darted over to the Woman as she recalled the comments made, and she translated them.

"What's wrong?" The Woman snarled, instantly picking up the sudden alteration in Lucas' demeanor. When she received no immediate answer, she walked over and slapped Lucas hard across the face.

"No." Jasmine growled, her voice firm, she herself earning a strike on her visage.

"Do _not_ use that tone with me! Do you understand?" The Woman hollered, her face flushed red with anger.

Jasmine's eyes narrowed at her in response, and for that, she received a kick in the ribs. Jasmine gasped as all the air in her lungs was expelled from her body, and after several painful seconds, she bowed her head down in resignation.

"Let's give these two time to recuperate: we'll be back in the morning for more." The Woman spat, the guard opening the door and allowing his superior to exit beforehand, before following suit and shutting their cell door.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence inside the room, Lucas broke it.

"So, since we'll be dying together, might as well learn your name." he said, his raspy voice echoing around the room.

"Jasmine." she responded, although she was hardly interested in introductions. All she wanted to do was find out more about his operations within MI-5.

"So, ah, Lucas--" she began, before being interrupted by a bout of painful grunts. It seemed as though his aching head had finally caught up to him.

Jasmine knew that she would never be able to get anything out of him if he just kept wailing like a wounded animal. Her thin lips pursed in slight annoyance at the delay, but she knew she had to help him in order to get what she desired; he was of no use to her dead.

Jasmine tentatively cleared her dry throat, which thankfully caught his attention. "If you want me to help you...I will. I just need something from you," she said, and pointed to his shirt.

Lucas looked down at the matted tank-top he was wearing and easily slipped it off, gently folding it before placing it next to Jasmine.

However, Jasmine didn't know why, but she just had to stare. Not just had to, she _needed_ to stare at him. It had been so long since she had seen someone's form, someone's fit form to add, and from a man who didn't just want to punish her. Her eyes looked up and down, side to side, memorizing Lucas's curves and muscles. She didn't know how long she had been staring, and didn't even know if she wanted to stop, but she was interrupted from her thoughts by the man himself clearing his throat weakly.  
  
Jasmine shook her head and mumbled apologies in Russian, as she grabbed his shirt and walked over to a nearby pipe.

The thing was covered by white plastic and its pale color matched the monotone cell in which they currently resided in. There were several big tubes that coated the walls and ceiling, but Jasmine knew this one had always been leaking. She crouched down and picked up a small metallic cup that she had been using to store the water, a substitute for anything her captors had tried to make her drink in the past.

This was her only source of drinking water, but she could go _another_ day without it.

Jasmine carefully made her way back to where Lucas currently sat, and when she was in an optimal position, she ripped his shirt in half and dipped the top half into the liquid.

"Come here." she mumbled, and Lucas scooted over. Jasmine placed her hand on the based of his neck and gently began dabbing the wet cloth unto his wounds.

He hissed in pain as the cool fabric met with his tender abrasions, but did his best to suppress it.

Jasmine did what she could with the little she had, and in the end, Lucas had fallen asleep, probably completely exhausted from all he had been through that day.

 _I wonder what they want from him…_ she wondered. _Is he really a member of MI-5 like she said he was? If that's true, then I must keep him alive at all costs. He just might be my ticket out of here..._


	3. Black Flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: As usual, any warnings will be visible with three (***). These trigger/content warnings are: sexual assault, insinuation of rape, and the inclusion of a panic attack. If you don't want to read about either of these, stop at, "[...] linger on this horrible scene, scolding her as if this stain were her fault." and continue onwards at, "It's your fault I'm like this," for the panic attack. For the sexual assault, stop at, "a warning signal for an intruder to back off." and continue reading at, "and when they threatened to go under her garments, she bit down on his [...] tongue—hard." And finally, to avoid reading about mentions of rape, please stop at, "The Woman sneered, walking over to loom above her prisoners shaking form." and continue at, "She couldn't remember the last time she had put up a fight against her captors."

_"I know it's way too late, when this dance has begun. So put on the heat, and let the fire run." -Xandria_

* * *

 

Jasmine awoke the next morning head spinning, and vision blurring. She groggily got up from her uncomfortable position on the floor and yawned, hearing her neck and back crackle from the sudden movement. She rubbed her eyes and looked around, scrambling off the side almost as soon as she did.  
  
She had completely forgotten about her new cell mate Lucas North, and his half naked appearance on the floor scared the living hell out of her.

She placed her hand over her heart and almost screamed: her hand was covered in _blood_.

Jasmine had never been able to stomach the red liquid for as long as she can remember. She couldn't exactly pin-point when she had become so paranoid of it, but she could never stand the sight. It had gotten so bad since her captivity that the Woman had even taken to purposefully slicing and dicing her bare arms and legs just to watch her have an emotional breakdown.

She could feel the beginning of an attack coming but, she couldn't look away from her tainted arms. It's as if her eyes were _making_ her gaze linger on this horrible scene, scolding her as if this stain were her fault.

 **_***_ ** _Filthy, filthy, filthy, filthy!_

That horrible voice droned on inside her head and her thoughts began whizzing inside, going a mile a minute. Her heart began to beat erratically within her chest as her lungs pumped furiously within her cavity, trying to keep up with her sporadic breathing.  

"I-it's not that bad," she mumbled to herself. "I can just wipe it off," she said, trying to rationalize with her emotions. She brought one of her hands down and began to furiously rub her skin, not even a streak of blood removing itself from its newest canvas.

_Told you it was no use! Pathetic, worthless, I can't believe you let this happen! Now what are we going to do?_

"I don't know!" Jasmine wailed, and covered her eyes with the palms of her hands, putting as much pressure as she could to those points; as if trying to squeeze the bad thoughts out.

"It's not even my fault that I'm like this, it was his, he was the one who got beat and he was the one who needed help! It's his fault... _his_ ." she gasped, and anxiously peered through the slits in her fingers to peer at Lucas. *******

"It's your fault I'm like this," she spat and angry tears began to stream down her face.

_Eugh don't you dare start crying. You know the rules: no crying babies. Now go over there and make him cleanse your skin._

Jasmine glared at Lucas, before she began to crawl towards him. That is, until her arms gave out. Jasmine gasped as even more pressure was placed on her lungs as the concrete began to slowly swallow her up.

Of course her arms weren't going to work, they were impure, unnecessary for her at the moment. Once they were returned to normal, then she could have them back.

Jasmine hauled herself up using her legs, and waddled over to where Lucas was currently laying down. "Hey, wake up." she stated and her cellmate opened his eyes almost immediately.

Lucas looked up at her, at her vague expression, and propped himself up by the elbows.

"Good morning." he mumbled, a stupid grin plastered upon his face.

Her visage did not change, however her eyes glinted down at him with the utmost malice. Lucas picked this up and lifted himself up right, so he could better face Jasmine.

"What's wrong?" he questioned, genuine concern laced in his bright blue eyes.

This took Jasmine by surprise, and her face softened a bit. "I...I was wondering if you could rid me of... _this_ ," she scowled, as her dark eyes darted down at her arms—which were still refusing to move.

Lucas followed her line of sight and noticed that her arms had become stained by his blood the night before, most likely when she had been cleaning his wounds.

A small grin poked at the sides of his mouth, but any trace of this light-hearted atmosphere that he had detected was clearly evaporated when he noticed how badly she was trembling, how uneven her breathing was, how hard she was trying not to crack.

He glanced around the room, and when he saw the small water cup and the mangled remains of his shirt, he quickly snatched those up before making his way to help Jasmine.

He dipped one of the cleaner ends of the cloth into the little water they had remaining, and gently took Jasmine's arm to begin the process.

"Since you took care of me yesterday, I suppose this is how I'm going to return the favor," he said, trying to ease her down.

Although her mind was still swirling with malevolent thoughts, she noticed that the tautness of her nerves was gradually starting to decrease thanks to the reassuring physical contact she was receiving from Lucas.

She suddenly began to feel a strange, and foreign feeling pooling in the pits of her stomach. At first she thought it was nausea, but then she concluded otherwise whenever it seemed to double in intensity every time she and Lucas made eye-contact.

 The feeling felt like goosebumps traveling up and down her skin, going from the tips of her fingers, to the top of her shoulders. A few times along, his fingertips brushed against her, which caused a soft, red flush to reveal itself. 

Eventually, Jasmine completely forgot about why he was touching her arms and began to stare, watching the way his arms flexed as they traveled up and down hers; the way the muscles on his chest tightened a bit as he leaned forward to get closer to her arm. She could feel the warmth of his skin radiating off of him, and it felt wonderful against her cold body.

"Jasmine, I'm done." Lucas stated clearly, bringing her back to her senses.

She looked down at her hands and saw that they were now rid of that horrible fluid. She looked up at him, said nothing, but her thanks shone in her eyes.

"Listen Darshavin, you're good at what you do. You instill fear within your prisoners...you must understand though, that we can't win _this one_ over...other methods are necessary."

Jasmine could clearly hear bits and pieces of a conversation the Woman was having with _that_ vile trash. However, she couldn't pinpoint who she was referring to: her or Lucas?

She didn't have time to contemplate the various outcomes, as the heavy door was pushed open.

The Woman was the first to enter the room, an unreadable expression on her face, and then a man followed her lead.

Jasmine's dark eyes narrowed into deadly slits as he made his way in. How dare he even _think_ of showing his face here again. A grimace formed on her face, and her nails scratched at the concrete, as if trying to grab handfuls of the foundation.

Lucas's eyes darted over in her direction, and when he saw the look on her face, he knew that this man being here wasn't good news.

"My my, don't you look upset?" The Woman teased, a cruel smirk finally appearing on her pale face. She turned over to face Darshavin, and nudged her head in Jasmine's direction.

The man chuckled, and slowly crept towards her.

A low growl started to resonate from Jasmine's chest, as if she were some feral beast; a warning signal for an intruder to back off.

 ******* This was paid no mind to, as he roughly grabbed her arms and forced her to him, where he then shoved his tongue into her mouth.

"Hey!" Lucas shouted, and made to remove this unknown man off of Jasmine, but the Woman kicked him to prevent him from interfering.

Jasmine screamed inside his mouth, as Darshavin began to grope her, then forcing her against the cold wall. She could feel his hands snaking their way across her, ******* and when they threatened to go under her garments, she bit down on his probing tongue—hard.

Darshavin yelled profanities before striking her across the face. "Fucking bitch!" he spat, punching Jasmine in the chest.

She let out a strange wheezing sound, and she felt her heart skip a beat from the force of the impact.

"Why are you being so disobedient today, Jasmine? Darshavin was merely going to chat with your new friend here," The Woman sneered, walking over to loom above her prisoners shaking form.

 ******* "If I knew you were going to act so naughty, I wouldn't have informed Darshavin of my new plans..."

_No...she can't be insinuating—_

She felt arms yank her body upwards, and then a slight sting flooded her wrists as plastic handcuffs were placed over them.

"Let's go," she heard Darshavin's rough voice whisper.

A numbness flooded her senses. She knew where she was headed.

"Ah, there we are, much more relaxed. I like it when you don't put up a fight."

That comment...it snapped something in her. The final cable holding up the bridge was cut loose as he said this to her. *******

She couldn't remember the last time she had put up a fight against her captors. But, deep inside, the last ounce of spirit that she had remaining was telling her to fight back. Jasmine had to reduce herself to the most finite point of existence, to the most primal nature, just as Darshavin was.

She had to fight: to remain sane, to remain human.

"Let me go!" she shrieked, and began to kick and flail within Darshavin's arms. "I won't let you take me!"

"Calm down," the Woman snapped, and whipped her on the shoulders.

"Leave her alone!" Lucas shouted, suddenly tackling the woman to the ground. She let out a yell of surprise as she was thrown onto the concrete.

"What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?!" she screeched, grabbing Lucas by the ankle as the man tried to make a move on Darshavin.

Jasmine couldn't understand why Lucas was doing this. Why was he helping her? Surely he knew what would happen if he attempted to impede any of the actions these two took, but still, he chose to stand up a fight.

This newfound sense of courage welled up inside her, and she struck Darshavin in the stomach as hard as she could.

The man behind her groaned and collapsed on to the ground, where he promptly threw up his last meal.

"Don't," Jasmine shouted, and kicked him in the face.  

"Ever," _kick_

"Touch," _kick_

"Me," _kick_

Again!" _kick_

She felt completely exhilarated. It's as if she had risen to the sound of revolution. She felt genuine happiness, something that she hadn't experienced in years. Jasmine realized that this was all due to Lucas standing up for her. This act of complete selflessness resounded within her, and a newfound respect for this man was born.

"Lucas," she gasped, before falling completely still, as the barrel of a rifle was placed on the back of her head.

"I can't believe what you've done," the Woman growled, anger flowing from her.

Any sort of jubilation that Jasmine felt at the moment, vanished. They were going to get punished for this big time.

She could hear Darshavin groaning as he got up from his current position. Her eyes carefully followed his movements, before he vanished from her line of sight. She could sense that he had moved behind her though, and was currently discussing something with the woman.

Jasmine couldn't make out what they were saying, as they had resorted to whispers. She also couldn't seem to find Lucas from where she was standing, which began to set her nerves on edge.

She felt the gun lightly push her forwards, signaling that she was going to move. "You're going to pay for that stunt you just pulled," Darshavin spat in her ear, grabbing her and tugging her along.

"No, let go of me, you bastard!" she screeched, as tears began to form in her eyes.

"Jasmine!"

She whirled her head around, and saw Lucas, sitting in the cell. She propelled her body back in the opposite direction, a horrible, hysterical scream erupting from her mouth.

"Help me!" she pleaded, before the butt of a gun forcefully came down on her head, knocking her out.


	4. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: this chapter contains a very serious trigger warning for scenes of torture, as well as mentions of rape. If you do not wish to read the paragraphs that mention rape, please stop reading at, "[...] accompanied by Darshavin and another guard." and continue at, "It was nothing short of a miracle..." To avoid the torture scene altogether, stop reading at, "'This is what you get for fighting'" and continue reading at, "Her body was getting to its limits." As usual, look for the three asterisks (***) to double check where to stop and continue.

_"All of my memories keep you near, in silent moments, I imagine you hear._

_All of my memories keep you near, your silent whispers, your silent tears." -Within Temptation_

* * *

 

Jasmine had been returned to the cell a few hours later, accompanied by Darshavin and another guard.

 ******* Lucas tried as hard as he could to repress the conclusion that his mind kept coming to as to where she had been all this time, but the image of her screaming kept replaying in his head. The scenarios only worsened when he suddenly remembered that she had been knocked unconscious just before...just before...

He suddenly toppled over, dumping whatever contents remained in his stomach on the floor, completely disgusted. *******

It was nothing short of a miracle that he didn't simply run over and kill Darshavin when he entered the room. However, these feelings of revenge immediately silenced themselves when he saw Jasmine being hauled in.

In the back of his mind, the idea of her being subjected to a worse fate nagged at him as the hours ticked by. Seeing her alive, lifted a weight off of his shoulders.

Darshavin glanced over at Lucas, sneered, and then dragged Jasmine to one of the pipes lining the ceiling. He found one relatively low to the ground, and with the help of the other guard, he hung her from there with some rope.

It appeared as though she wasn't enduring this solo, as they quickly made for Lucas next and eventually had him hanging from the pipe as well.

"You think we were going to let you go off easy?" This was more of a statement than a question, Darshavin glaring at Lucas, who didn't respond.

Darshavin turned to the guard and said something to him in Russian, which caused him to temporarily leave the room. Lucas tried to figure out what exactly was going on by observing their actions, but this only furthered to confuse him even more.

Not much time had passed before the guard reappeared with two buckets of water in either hand, and an electric battery and wires slung under his arm.

He placed the equipment on the ground, and Darshavin came to help with the set up. He flicked on a switch and the battery hummed to life, electricity coursing through the two clamps currently hooked up.

Darshavin clacked the two together, which caused a loud, and fiery hiss to echo through the quiet cell. A sadistic grin spread across his face, but before he made a move with his new toys, he took one of the buckets and dumped it on Jasmine.

Lucas watched as the water seeped through her grimy hair and clothes, each greedily soaking it up, causing her to be completely drenched within a minute or so.

"This is what you get for fighting," he hissed, before clamping the prongs on either of her arms.

 ******* Jasmine was suddenly pulled back into reality by this unexpected surge of pain. Her body jerked upwards at an awkward angle, which caused the clamps to further dig into her skin.

Her brain was trying to compensate for what she had endured earlier, as memories of previous events flashes behind her eyes, all the while attempting to signal the nerves and muscles to move, to try and get out of the situation.

But her muscles were shocked to a painful standstill, and all she could do was fidget in place as jolts of electricity surged through her body.

She felt like her entire core was on fire. Jasmine could literally feel each individual current as it danced across her wet form, while hungrily attacking the molecules that threatened it.

It wasn't until this point, that the culmination of all the events of this day came to the forefront of her mind and senses, did she let out a primal scream of agony.

She didn't know how long it lasted, but it seemed that she couldn't stop herself. It was a never ending cry of pain, sorrow, anger, frustration, from the very depths of her fractured soul. *******

Her body was getting to its limits. It had already endured so much for her, and its external barrier was beginning to crack and crumble, despite all of the warnings the brain was giving it.

"Please! Stop! She's endured enough! _Please!_ "

Someone was pleading for her, ordering for her torture to stop. Who could that be? Was it just her imagination?

Her widened eyes desperately tried to search for the source of the voice, straining against the tugging and spazzing of her muscles.

Her vision was blurring, and it seemed as though she were going in and out of consciousness. All she managed to make out was a fuzzy figure, with a glowing white light emanating above them.

 _An angel...?_ she thought, as tears began to spill from her eyes.

"Jasmine...Jasmine! Oh god, please stop!"

_That voice...it sounds like..._

"Lucas," she hummed softly, before darkness swallowed her whole.

* * *

_A memory:_

Jasmine could feel the sand between her toes, she could feel the heat of the sun upon her neck, and she could hear the cawing of the seagulls that flew above her.

She instinctively ran towards the sound of water, skipping over rocks, and occasionally spinning around; her crooked smile lighting up her face.

She was out of breath when she finally arrived, to the water, to the ocean.

 Jasmine placed her hands on her hips, and looked thoroughly pleased with herself. It felt like ages since she had last been here, and seeing all of this gave her a sense of nostalgia.

The environment was so comforting, so welcoming. She felt so relaxed, so at ease...this seemed so strange, but yet, had an alluring air of familiarity around it.

She heard a call, a voice, one that she couldn't pin point, but regardless, she turned and have the small group an arching wave.

They called for her attention again, as if trying to signal something, but she couldn't hear them. Someone finally waved a pizza box in the air, and a high pitched giggle escaped her lips.

"I'll be over in a few!" her voice was so loud, so strong, so young.

Jasmine turned back to face the vast expanse of sparkling blue that was the sea, and as if on cue, her legs began to propel her body towards it. The small waves began to lap at her dry feet, and without hesitation, she dived into the water, allowing this blanket of creation to envelop her.

_A memory:_

"Freak!"

"Loser!"

"Jerks!" she growled, and tackled the instigators to the ground. "You think you're tough guys or something, picking on a girl?"

The boy and the girl that she had currently pinned down gave her the evil eye.

"It's not my fault, she was asking for it! Wearing those horrible clothes, she's not a boy!"

_Crunch._

The sound of a boot slamming down on fingers echoed through the dingy hallway. "I'm sorry, are clothes gendered now, asshole?" she snarled, before grabbing the boy by the collar, as he tried feebly to escape.

"Ack! Come on, Jasmine, let me go!" he shouted, before he was slammed against some nearby lockers.

"Why do you feel the need to make fun them, huh?" she said, and pulled his arm behind his back.

"Ow! Ow, ow! Hey, stop! I didn't mean to!" he wailed, several kids in the crowd cheering as they noticed a fight beginning to brew.

"What kind of lame ass excuse is that? Now get over there and apologize, or I'll bruise your precious _symbol_ of manhood." she spat, and tossed the boy to the feet of a much smaller classmate.

"U-um," they stammered, clearly nervous about the situation, but adoration shone in their eyes as Jasmine stomped over and picked the bully up by his hair, forcing him to look up.

"Now, apologize punk,"

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry!" he wailed, Jasmine releasing her grip on the boy so he could scurry off somewhere.

"Are you okay?" she asked, a much calmer and softer disposition coming over her, as she walked over to them.

"Yeah, I'm okay, I'm used to it," they mumbled, and jumped when they felt a hand on their shoulder.

"What's your name, kid?"

"Well, all those bullies call me Lizzy...But, my name is _really_ Tommy."

Jasmine smiled, her right incisor popping out slightly as she did so; not even braces could solve that problem child.

"So you're Tommy? That's a cute name. Wanna go out sometime?" she asked, a small chuckle escaping her as she watched him become flustered.

"W-what? You want to go on a date with me?" he stammered, completely flabbergasted.

"Yeah." Was her simple reply, before she intertwined her fingers with his. "Schools almost out, lemme walk you there."

"O-okay, sure," Tommy said, a smile on his face.

Jasmine winked at him, as she began leading him out the door. "You know, you're really cute when you smile."

_A memory:_

"Are you sure that it's good news?"

"I'm certain. At least, I think I am. I've been here for long enough. I'm just happy that they've finally started taking my abilities seriously."

"I think it might have been after you helped find Shulman that they've seen you can do more than sit behind a desk and interrogate random s.o.b's."

"I trained for this damn job and worked as hard as anyone else in here. Just because I'm smaller and didn't go to some Ivy League school, shouldn't mean that I'm less of an agent than any of these people."

Jasmine was conversing with a friend...she couldn't make out her name though. She merely shook this off and continued walking to where she needed to go.

"Ah Jasmine, there you are, I was just about to send for you," he exclaimed, and patted the chair in front of his desk.

She followed the instruction and sat before him, awaiting what he had to say with anticipation.

"As you know, you were a big help with the Shulman case...it's why that now, considering your skills that you have shown...that I have reviewed...you will be taking part in a high-profile case in Russia..."

The conversation came in bits and pieces, but the final verdict was clear: she was going to Russia for her own private mission.

* * *

Jasmine groggily awoke in her damp cell, and tried to sit up, instead this only resulted in more moaning and more pain.

Her hands scrambled across the floor to try and reaffirm where she was, which was on the ground. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to look for the bar she had been hanging from earlier. Sure enough, she found tattered rope hanging not too far from where she currently sat.

She groaned as another wave of discomfort swept through her, and this is when she decided to look at her newest injuries.

She lifted her right arm and began to inspect its surface. Jasmine noticed that wherever the clamps had been placed, was where the greatest damage had been done. The skin was charred and rough, and bright pink streaks stemmed from the origin point.

Both of her arms had this injury, and she began to feel a sting all the way down to her muscles whenever she moved.

“Dammit...looks like the nerves might be irreversibly damaged now,” she grumbled, a gasp escaping her as tried to adjust her arms up a little higher. It appeared that moving was out of the question at the moment.

“Jasmine?”

The brunette jumped, surprised at the sudden noise, and she slowly turned her head in the direction of the speaker.

A relieved sigh escaped her lips, as it was only Lucas. “Hey. How long was I out for?” she questioned, carefully scooting back into a wall so she could rest her head.

“A couple hours, I think. What you went through...it must have been horrible. They just made me watch...as they continually increased the—” he had to stop himself, otherwise the memories would have just made him sick again.

A chord struck within Jasmine, as she realized how concerned Lucas was over her well being. Poor thing, this was more of a mental attack on him than a physical attack on her.

Jasmine's eyes widened when it finally clicked. What the Woman had been saying earlier in regards to using ‘other methods’, she must have been talking about this.

Lucas noticed that Jasmine was well into her own train of thought, and he gave her another glance before his bright eyes froze on the horrible burns she received on either arm.

“Oh god,” he said, and got up quickly to more closely inspect her wounds.

Jasmine glanced up just as he was sitting down, her face furrowing in confusion. “What's wrong?”

“D-doesn't it hurt?” he questioned, and gingerly placed his hand below her abrasions.

Jasmine flinched at his touch, her earlier thoughts on receiving some serious nerve damage only being supported by these jolts of pain.

“Yes,” she said, and suddenly felt very guilty for the confession, as Lucas' eyes suddenly became filled with the utmost terror.

“But,” she stammered. “I've received worse,” she said, and maneuvered herself around so her back was facing him.

“You see that?” she asked, in regards to a fairly wide scar protruding from the base of her neck. “That goes down the entire length of my spine,” she informed, like this was some form of consolation.

Lucas visibly paled when she told him this, and tentatively, he grazed the area with one of his fingers.

A shiver ran down Jasmine's back, and she whirled back around in response. Her eyes went cross for a second when she noticed Lucas' hovering hand, but after several quiet minutes, it flopped to the floor.

“Jasmine...what's happened to you in here?” he looked visibly shaken, and considering everything he had seen that day, it was no surprise.

A sad expression glazed over her, as memories of the torture she's faced, and the captivity she had been living in, flooded her mind. However, she shed no tears, and she said no words.

She merely gave him a solemn smile.

“I think,” she finally uttered. “That those stories will be shared someday,” she gave him one last glance before carefully lowering herself down to the floor to get some rest.

_Someday..._


End file.
